A Turn Or Two I'll Walk To

My Will Enkindled By Mine Eyes And Ears, Two Traded Pilots 'twixt The Dangerous Shores Of Will And Judgment.

If Music Be The Food Of Love, Play On.

I Have Bought Golden Opinions From All Sorts Of People.

What E'er You Are That In This Desert Inaccessible, Under The Shade Of Melancholy Boughs, Lose And Neglect The Creeping Hours Of Time.

To Sleep Perchance To Dream